Page 98 of Off the Pitch

“That would be great,” he said, and I couldn’t help smiling to myself. I wondered if Hugo was smiling. I hoped he was because he had such a beautiful one. It was one of the things I’d noticed about him the other day—how warm and genuine his smile seemed to be—and for some reason I wanted to see him smiling all the time.

“I’ll apologise now though,” I added, “because I might not be much help. I don’t know much about having casts removed or broken legs.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “I just appreciate the offer of company. I don’t really like hospitals.”

“Who does really?” I asked, shrugging my shoulders before realising that Hugo couldn’t actually see me.

“Maybe… maybe afterwards we could go and get some food?” Hugo’s question was tentative, but it wasn’t like I was going to refuse. After all, he’d offered me food.

Still, an idea had been forming in my mind, and the more I thought about it, the more I decided that it was a good one, and hopefully it would make Hugo smile again.

“That sounds fabulous,” I said. “But I have an even better idea!”

“Oh?” Hugo chuckled. “What’s that?”

“I can’t possibly say,” I said, practically bouncing from foot to foot with excitement, already making a mental list of everything I’d need. “But I think you’ll love it. At least, I hope you will.”

“I’m sure I will then.”

We chatted for a few more minutes, with Hugo promising to text me his address and the best time for me to get there since the appointment was at ten. It would be much easier for me to go to his flat first, rather than having to traipse across to the hospital and then attempt to find each other there. In my limited experience with them, hospitals were always a maze, and knowing my luck, I’d spend two hours just attempting to find the right department.

When we’d finally said goodbye, I immediately raced upstairs to grab a couple of sketch pads out of a drawer, slinging them into my old messenger bag alongside various other art supplies that I thought would come in handy.

My phone flashed on the floor beside me, and I reached for it with one hand, the other tucking some stray pencils back into a drawer.

HugoHere’s my address. See you tomorrow!

HugoEnjoy your Chinese food

Crap! Food. I knew there had been something I’d forgotten to do.

I smiled to myself as I scrolled back to the takeaway app I’d closed when Hugo had rung, our conversation still playing in my mind and the sound of Hugo’s soft laughter warming my chest.

Chapter Five

KitWhat do you know about broken legs?

DavidIf this is your way of telling me you’ve broken your leg, I will throttle you

Hugo

The day I’d been dreaming about for months had finally arrived, and I was more nervous than ever.

I’d been up since five, after spending the night tossing and turning, throwing pillows off the bed and then trying to pick them up again. When the clock had hit five, it seemed pointless to stay in bed any longer, so I’d dragged myself onto the sofa so I could distract myself with TV. There was nothing quite like watching David Attenborough documentaries to take my mind off everything.

My brain was still trying to tell me that everything was going to be shit, and that the doctors were going to take one look at me and tell me I was never going to play again. I’d never considered what my plans were for after my footballing career ended, but now I was wondering whether I should have thought about it more.

I’d gotten a bit of money saved, although there hadn’t been much left after the divorce, and although my wages were refilling my savings accounts, I didn’t have enough to live on for years if my wages suddenly stopped. Maybe I’d get an extra payment for being let out of my contract early if things ended up that way.

My thoughts had just started to spiral away from me, when Kit had messaged me to ask if I had any allergies. I assumed he was buying food, because that was the only option that made sense, since he’d then sent more vague messages about my likes and dislikes. It was only half seven though, and that did seem a little early… then again many places in London had weird opening hours so maybe it wasn’t odd at all.

I had no idea what Kit had planned for today, but I couldn’t deny that I was intrigued. He’d been so excited over the phone last night, that I’d had to agree to his secret plans. Now all I had to do was survive the hospital, then I’d get to spend the rest of the day with him.

I glanced down at Kit’s last message, which said he was on his way, and then down at myself. I was still wearing the same t-shirt and boxers I’d worn to bed last night, and I needed to put actual clothes on.

Pulling myself off the sofa, I hopped across the living room and tried to avoid hitting my leg on the door frame into my bedroom. I’d done that yesterday and then spent twenty minutes swearing and crying.

My underwear drawer looked surprisingly empty, which meant I needed to attempt to do some laundry, even though bending down to fill the washing machine had been a nightmare with my leg. I hoped it would be easier with the cast off. If all else failed, I’d just buy some new stuff instead.

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